


Don't Put It in Your Mouth

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Crusade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-18
Updated: 2007-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:05:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1643099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max should be more careful about what he touches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Put It in Your Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Val and Kiki!
> 
> Written for Jewels

 

 

\--Don't Put It in Your Mouth--

They sat facing each other. The cool, clean table between them was made from the same alloy as their chairs. It wasn't made for comfort.

"So..." his voice drawled. "Come here often?" Max Eilerson smiled his trademark shit-eating grin. He looked around the room pretending there must be something fabulous to rate this guest. The room offered no clue, its flat, grey walls shiny after years of cleaning.

"Only for the most... special... people," the hawknosed man said in his normal, glib manor.

"Captain," Max started.

"Admiral," Admiral Matthew Gideon corrected.

Max chuckled lightly. "I stand corrected. Well, sit corrected really." He shrugged. His hands remained below the table. Hands that once held the burial urn for the First Comet on Brakiri, hands that used the confusion after the war/game on the Drazi homeworld to take a closer look at the fertility idols on display in the species' one museum, hands that were currently shackled and chained to a hook on the floor below the table. "Admiral, I seem to have a problem."

"A problem?" Matthew snorted. "A problem is when the Pak'ma'ra bathroom is out of service. A problem is when Dureena 'happens upon' the President's wallet. You seem to be. Screwed."

The archeologist nodded. "Screwed. But it isn't what it looks like!" His body quivered with restrained energy.

"It never is..."

"Yeah, ok. But please hear me out. You've come all this way. You at least deserve to know why I asked for you."

"About that. How did you find me?" Matthew felt compelled to ask. He thought he'd done a pretty good job at dropping off the grid when he retired. His own little world with his own little beach, found while looking for a cure for the Drakh plague.

"Matheson."

"Of course." Matthew trusted John Matheson more than most members of the Psi Corps. John was a soldier first and a telepath fourth or fifth. Which doesn't mean he wouldn't divulge his superior officer's secret beach planet if it meant he could get away from Max. Matthew needed to have a little "chat" with his friend.

"Give him a break when you see him," Max said in a moment of humanity. "He really didn't want to talk. Then I reminded him about the time I rescued him from the Minbari gentleman's club."

Matthew pinched his eyes shut and shook his head. This was why he'd dropped off the face of the galaxy. People just shouldn't have these discussions. Whatever happened to... "So, how's the weather?" He asked, anything to get a little normality.

Max rolled his eyes. "I don't know, you tell me. I've been a guest of this lovely facility for the past month. As you can tell, they aren't big on windows."

"No. They aren't." Matthew started pacing around the room. Back to the reason why he was even here. "You castrated it?"

\---

It wasn't as if Matthew hadn't expected to get this call at some point. Max was physically incapable of avoiding dangerous activities. Matthew had hoped, prayed, that because Max was working with Dr. Sarah Chambers, she would make sure he didn't cause any religious hoodoo curse on the local population of Vogons.

Well, she did that. In a feat of skill and quick thinking Dr. Chambers had managed to keep Max away from the main population while her team studied the species that hadn't evolved in thousands of years. Matthew wasn't quite sure why they deserved study; he found them slightly less repulsive than the Pak'ma'ra. But, she was quite sure they held the key to curing the lice infestation currently torturing the Narn. He didn't think that made a whole lot of sense, but he knew he didn't want to know more. If he knew more, they would rope him into joining the team. If he knew more, he'd have to think about the little, purple buggers and how they glowed in the dark.

Max went his own way, which was just fine with him. There were some ruins to the south that intrigued him. It looked like ... like ... Well, he couldn't quite compare it to anything he'd ever seen before. At first it seemed like a broken freeway onramp, until he got closer and saw the fur. It only got stranger from there.

How was he to know that it was alive? The fur wasn't moving, wasn't breathing. He saw what looked like a very promising cave. The earth-shattering howl that rocked the valley when he used his laser torch to loosen an interesting thing on the wall was the first sign of actual life. Dirt and debris rained down on his head. Max ran out and kept running until he reached the hills. Only then did he turn and look back.

Alive. He didn't do alive. It was too messy. He wanted old, dead, desiccated. Something that couldn't talk back. He had enjoyed the hunt for the Drakh plague because so many of their stops were dead planets; lots of juicy history without any emotions or feelings to deal with. Of course, he would rather die than fess up to that. He had his reputation to maintain after all.

This, this was alive. And loud. Its screams reverberated across the valley. Only when the thing took a breath did Max realize he was screaming too. He shut his mouth with a click.

It took seconds for Max's world to change. The Vogon militia rolled out its full force. Squat tanks bristled with enough guns to raze the whole valley. Max waved them down, planning to kiss their squishy, grey feet if only they would get him out of there. It actually took him a minute to realize their guns were aimed at him.

\---

Matthew sighed loudly back in the present. "You honestly didn't know?"

"No!" Max jumped in his seat, momentarily forgetting his shackles. He then collapsed like a deflating balloon. "No, no, no no no..."

"Say I believe you," Matthew said while returning to his chair. "They are claiming you castrated their prize dog/bear/hyena whatever the hell it is."

"Attempted," Max bumped his head against the table. "It was still dangling..."

Matthew clicked his tongue. "Yeah." He was really beginning to wish he had stayed on his beach. He stared at Max as if his eyes could see into his soul. Matthew nodded once and stood. "I'll let you know their decision as soon as I can."

Two swift knocks on the door brought a guard. "Hey, Admiral?" Max said without any hint of mockery. "Thanks."

Matthew walked through the door and down the hallway. He found the person he was looking for two doors down. "So, is he cleared?" Dr. Chambers asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. The mayor owes me one."

Sarah looked around. "Well?"

"I'm leaving him in there one more night."

"Why?"

Matthew shrugged. "Because I can?"

Sarah nodded. "Good point."

###end###

 


End file.
